


Useful

by smithereen



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M, Sad Porn, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithereen/pseuds/smithereen
Summary: Joe is Nick's kept boy.





	Useful

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in December 2011.

Nick sounds stressed out when he calls from the studio, barely laughs when Joe makes a joke, hangs up in a rush. He's been having a bunch of days like that lately, fighting with record executives over the release date for his new album, over the new single he didn't want to record.   
  
Joe wanders down to the kitchen, and checks the fridge. He was going to try that duck with the miso-almond butter, but he decides steaks would be better. Stick with something he knows Nick likes, save the culinary adventures for another day. He waits until Rosita finishes the upstairs bathrooms and leaves for the day before he works himself open on Nick's bed (their bed). Slicks himself up with his fingers, his dick going hard on his stomach. He jerks himself off slow and lazy, half watching some soap opera in Spanish with heavy lidded eyes. He thinks about sending Nick a picture of his dick just for a laugh since Nick got so pissed the last time. He decides today probably isn't the day for it. The plug goes in easy after he comes, his fingers all slippery. He yawns and grabs a tissue for his hands, tries to motivate himself to shower. He still has dinner to cook, but there's no rush, Nick won't be home for hours.   
  
He runs a couple errands, get the steaks and some fresh bread too. He passes a few shop windows, buys himself a new pair of sneakers. He wears them out of the store. They're bright green, and they clash horribly with everything he's wearing. The plug is a thick, dull stretch inside him. Familiar.   
  
He snoozes out by the pool in his boxers with the sun on his face and the dogs running around yapping. He tosses the ball for Elvis for a while. Winston half-heartedly tries to play along for a couple minutes before giving up and heaving himself into Joe's lap. "What a good boy," Joe says, scratching at his haunches while he wheezes tiredly. "You should do high-jump in the doggie Olympics." Winston licks at his hands, drools on his thigh. Joe pets his head absently while he checks his phone. He answers a bunch of e-mails, calls a couple people just because he's sick of the sound of his own voice talking to the dogs. He goes back inside when his skin starts to feels overhot from the sun, when he thinks he might be about to burn.  
  
He gets the marinade started, turning up the volume loud on Foster the People, singing along. Elvis tangles in his legs, begging for scraps. Joe gives him a little steak, tosses some to Winston under the table too. This is why the dogs like him best. He sends Nick a text asking for an ETA, and then adds an hour to what Nick sends him back because it's one of those days. He still undershoots it, the steaks gone pretty cold by the time Nick's key is turning in the lock.   
  
He can hear the dogs barking, running around, excited. If he were a dog, he'd probably be doing the same thing. He puts his laptop down on the table, slips a hand inside his boxers. He's chubbed up, starting to get hard just from listening to Nick's footsteps coming closer. He strokes his dick a couple times, fattening it up so the bulge is obvious, before shouting, "In the den!" He thinks about stripping off his boxers, but he doesn't want to be presumptuous. Maybe Nick will want to eat first this time. (You never know.)  
  
Nick's pulling off his sweater as he walks in, making a bee line for the couch. It's 89 degrees today, and he's wearing a sweater. He looks really good in it, but still. His shoulders are tense like all the stress from the studio is still sitting on them, and he's got an angry line sunk down between his eyebrows. "Dinner's on the-" Joe starts. Nick crawls up Joe's body on the couch, presses a hard kiss to Joe's mouth, interrupting.  
  
Joe goes pliant as Nick's hands skid over his bare skin, as Nick's lips slide against his own, his mouth wet, his teeth catching. Joe fumbles with Nick's jeans, but Nick isn't really cooperating, not giving him any room. He's got Joe pinned down under his weight, his hands clutching at Joe's hair, his back, palming his ass. Joe gives up on getting him naked and winds his arm around Nick's neck. He arches to press himself against Nick's body.   
  
Nick's hips rock insistently against Joe's thigh, his teeth on Joe's collarbone as his fingers slip down inside the waistband of Joe's boxers. He makes an approving growly kind of noise when he feels the plug. He pulls back to efficiently yank the boxers off Joe's legs. "Roll over," Nick says, peeling his jeans down just enough to get his dick out. Joe goes obediently to his knees, his hips tilted up, his thighs spread shamelessly wide. Nick works the plug out quickly, two fingers sliding into Joe once he's empty, testing. Joe shudders and clenches down on his fingers, wet inside.   
  
Nick huffs out a hard breath, his dick pushing in easily where Joe's slick and open. Joe closes his eyes, presses back for it, hands braced on the arm of the couch as Nick starts to fuck him. Nick fucks him hard on days like this, getting himself off with impatient thrusts that slide in deep and relentless, working Joe up until he's whining into the couch cushions. He lifts up onto his elbows, panting, and Nick's hand flattens on the small of his back, pressing him back down. Joe groans as Nick's body curves against his back, covers him up like a blanket, his skin hot everywhere, his arms tucked tight around Joe's chest. His mouth is open against Joe's shoulder blade, the back of his neck. He grunts into Joe's ear, rutting, stuffing Joe full, his cock touching so deep.  
  
Joe rubs his face against the couch cushions, his dick stiff and achy in his hand. He jerks himself off, Nick's hands on his hips, holding him steady for Nick's cock.  
  
After, they eat re-heated steaks in front of the baseball game. Nick's got his jeans off finally, sprawled in his boxers and a white undershirt. He relaxes into the couch cushions, the stress drained out of him. Joe did that. Joe smiles, nuzzles into Nick's shoulder. Nick drapes an arm around him, smiles back.   
  
"How was your day?" Nick says.   
  
Joe shrugs. Boring, mostly. But all he says is, "Better now."  
  
"You should come with me to the studio tomorrow," Nick says. "If you want."   
  
Joe hesitates. He loves the studio. Bouncing ideas back and forth until it turns into a song, seeing a vague idea turned into something that sounds like it belongs on an album, listening to a song and knowing which parts of it he put there. He's always loved the studio. But, he doesn't know… The last couple times Nick took him, the rest of the guys in the room looked at him like he was a tourist, like he was there on a guest pass. Of course Nick asked for his opinion on stuff, but he could tell before he even gave it that Nick was the only one in the room who was listening to his answer. It's okay, Nick's the one who matters. But-   
  
"I don't know," he says. Thinking about hanging out in the studio makes him feel a little sick actually, kind of upset. Like all the stuff he tries not to think about, all the ways he's so useless and not good enough, are just waiting for him there. He shakes his head finally, his fingers tracing idly across Nick's soft belly. "You can just play the new stuff for me here."   
  
"You sure?" Nick says, his brow furrowing a little.   
  
Joe nods. "I have some stuff to do tomorrow anyway," he lies.  
  
He sucks Nick off during the seventh inning, takes his time, drags it out. Nick cards gentle fingers through his hair, strokes his bare back with a warm hand. Joe hums happily around the dick in his mouth. It's nice to be petted. He keeps it going until his jaw is aching, until Nick's glazed and trembling, sagging bonelessly against the cushions. Until he's sure Nick'll be able to fall asleep tonight without tossing around until 3 in the morning.   
  
When Nick comes in his mouth, it makes Joe feel useful.


End file.
